Have You Ever?
by Nico79
Summary: A slow nightshift leads to a number of revelations for Catherine and Sara. Femslash, if don't like it, then please don't read.


**Disclaimer:** The characters aren't mine, they belong to CBS, and absolutely no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Have You Ever?**

**By **

**Nico  
**

I can sense Greg's smile. I can also sense him looking back and forth between Catherine and I rapidly, as if he's waiting for one of us to catch his eye. He'll have a long wait; I'll refuse to look at him now just to get on his nerves. The smile on his face eventually reaches epic proportions, right around the time he can't manage to contain himself any longer.

"We should play a game," he says, shimmying around in his seat.

"What kind of game?" Catherine asks with an indulgent smile on her face. "I'm not touching the Playstation; every time Lindsey forces me to play on hers, I end up with digit paralysis."

"Same thing happens to his brain." I laugh, as she smiles at me in response, a rare show of warmth in her eyes.

"I think we've played this before, it's called 'torture Greg'." he pouts, pretending to be annoyed with us both.

"Our favourite game. You want to go first, Sara? You're the master." she laughs when he glowers at her.

"No, no, no. The game is called Have you Ever. We all take it in turns to ask each other questions." he waves his hands around, to emphasise his point.

"And?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Well, we ask each other questions," he repeats, as if I'm slow on the uptake.

"And? You win or lose depending on what?" Catherine frowns at him, the same way he's just frowned at me.

"You don't. You just ask questions." he grins again, going red in the face already as his toady little mind thinks up his first question.

"Men wonder why we accuse them of being simple." she flashes me a wink as she chuckles, and puts her newspaper down. "Go on, boy wonder. I can tell you're dying to ask a question."

"You ever do anything, like have a heroic fantasy?" Greg directs the question at both of us.

Catherine smirks, and chooses to remain silent, so he looks at me.

"Why are you looking at me?"

"Well, have you?" Catherine asks, her voice laced with amusement.

"Fantasies are…pointless," I reply, and turn back to my magazine. God, I hate slow nights.

"Why are they pointless?" she asks, her head cocked to one side, while she wears an inquisitive look.

"Ask me another." I shake my head, and take a sip of my coffee.

"Oh no," Greg shakes his head, an evil look passing over his face, "she asked you that one. You should answer."

"Fantasies are just pointless, okay? That's what they are." I shrug, as I silently think up how many ways I'm going to get him back for this.

"So you don't have them? Not at all, never?" Catherine attempts to clarify, as she rests her chin on her hand.

"Not never; just not now." I take it back, I detest to the Nth degree, shifts that are slow.

"Why not now?" she pushes, as I try not to notice the way her shirt falls open when she leans closer to me.

"What is it with you two?" I set my magazine down, as my gaze wanders back and forth between them.

"You can't answer a question with a question," she says with a cheeky grin, and if I didn't know any better, I'd swear she was enjoying this as much as Greg.

"I don't have fantasies, period." That's final, that's my last word on the subject.

"Not even tiny ones?" Greg asks, pushing his luck even further. I'm going to kill him.

"Jesus, no! I don't have time; I haven't even switched my television on in a week. Where would I get time for pointless fantasies that will never come true?"

"Ah, that's the root of your problem." Catherine smiles knowingly. "You've been fantasising about what you can never have, as opposed to what you could achieve."

"What's the point in fantasising about something you can have?" I sidestep her statement, knowing she's right.

"Have you never fantasized about a lover while you've been apart?" Catherine asks, getting that look on her face she normally has when she's determined to try and solve a puzzle.

"No, what's the point? I have them, so no fantasy needed." which is partially true, because I can't say that anybody I've been with has ever inspired that much passion in me, that I'd want to relive it whilst we were apart.

"Okay, okay, look." Greg bounces up and down in his seat, clearly overjoyed at the conversation the three of us are having, and something tells me that this is one of his fantasies. "Have either of you ever seen somebody in need of help, and afterwards been just that little bit tempted to go over it all in your mind and think of a myriad of ways you could have helped them, and they'd be so grateful that they'd want to be near you?"

"No." I shake my head. I could have, but resisted doing it, that way lays trouble.

"Yes." Catherine nods. "I have."

"Me too." Greg bounces again

"You guys are freaks." I laugh, and get up to get more coffee, to shield the fact I'm somewhat uncomfortable with this conversation.

I take my time in filling their cups up, and then spend an extra few minutes on my own, hoping that when I'm seated again, they'll have let it drop.

"Picture this." Catherine looks at me, and I realise how futile my hope was. "Say for instance you liked somebody at work, and you've waited a long time to get close to this person. You're partnered up one night, and they're in need of your help, and you've got to work really closely with them. When shift is over, don't you entertain the slightest fantasy that being so very close could have sparked things off? That maybe they'd have kissed you, or declared their feelings for you?"

"No." I shake my head at her, as I look at my magazine again, to avoid giving anything away with my eyes.

It's a tiny white lie, however. I attempted it once, but it ended badly. The ache in my stomach was more than I could bear, because I knew it would never happen.

"Besides, the guys are like my family, and that would be weird." it would also be a bit straight, and that's the very last thing I am.

"What about a female colleague in a crisis then?" she asks in what would appear to be a casual manner, as Greg's tongue falls out, and his jaw rests on the tabletop.

"I can't see anything happening to reach crisis levels in here. Ecklie is too damn tight to have a crisis, it would cost money," I joke, in order to deflect her question, and am thankful when they laugh.

"What about that one female colleague then?" she asks again, unwilling to let me off the hook, and as her eyes meet mine, I wonder what the hell she's playing at.

"Not sure you could call Sofia a colleague, as such, I mean she's back at PD now." I let her try that on for size, and suddenly she's grinding her teeth and trying not to look annoyed.

Ooh what's that all about?

"But if you mean team colleagues type thing, then the only female colleague I have is you," I reply casually, as she stops gnashing her teeth, and goes back to smiling instead.

"And have you?" Greg's face is tomato red, sweat has beaded on his upper lip, and he's grinning.

"Have I what?" I act dumb, in the vain hope that I can play for time and he'll either drop it, or I'll come up with a better way of deflecting their questions.

"Had a fantasy about Catherine?"

"Is there not a law about this kind of thing?" I laugh, lest I say something stupid instead, and then we'd really see how much of a disaster we could have in the lab.

"So, you've honestly never had a fantasy about me, then?" Catherine seems hugely interested in the subject, and I'm not sure if I should be worried or not.

"Hey, wait a minute," I sidestep once more, "how come all of the questions are coming in my direction? What about you, Cath?"

"What about me?" she smiles coyly, but I'm not fooled for a second.

"Have you ever had a fantasy about a female colleague?" I push the issue just like she did, only this time I'm not smiling, and she knows I won't let it go.

Payback's a bitch.

"The question was directed at you." she raises an eyebrow, and I do believe we're rapidly getting to the edge of her shit eating grin zone.

"And I'm asking the same question back, I think you should answer. Greg thinks you should too," I reply, as she tries desperately to maintain the smile on her face.

A loud bleeping noise cuts into the tense silence, and Greg pulls his pager from his belt as he growls at it. "Oh man! It's Grissom. Sometimes I swear I hate that dude!"

"I wouldn't worry about it Greg, Catherine wasn't going to answer anyway, and I sure as hell won't." I down the rest of my coffee, and flip over a page of my magazine.

"See you later." he looks dejected as he stands up, and shoves his hands in his pockets. "But if you do answer, please, please, let me know. It would be way hot."

I watch as he scurries from the room, and feel Catherine's gaze settle on me again. I'm pretty sure I can wait her stare out, I've had enough practice. I also know how much she hates silence unless she's the one to initiate it, so by not saying a word, I can annoy her immensely and look as if I'm not doing a thing wrong. It's fantastic.

"Still not going to answer, huh?" she says huskily, her trademark half smile gracing her full lips.

"Oh, the question? I might if you did, but it's dependent on your answer." I shrug, knowing she never will, so I think I'm relatively safe.

"Okay." she nods. "Yes, I have."

I drop my magazine, damn near drop my cup too. Then I realise she's probably pulling my leg, and I burst out laughing. She evidently doesn't think it's funny. I quickly shut up.

"Sorry, shouldn't have laughed. I guess you having fantasies about female colleagues is…nothing to laugh about. It's perfectly normal, I guess." me and my big mouth. I feel like the biggest bitch on two legs at the moment.

"It wasn't just any female colleague though was it? The question was directed at you, about me, so therefore when you turn it around…" she waits for the penny to drop, as she twirls her cup in circles.

"You're admitting to having had a fantasy about…me?" my throat goes dry and I practically quit breathing.

"Yes."

"Shit."

"That wasn't quite what I expected." I'm not sure if she's amused or not.

"This is like one of those 'I hate you and could find a hundred different ways to murder you' fantasies right?"

Her face deepens in colour, and she clears her throat. "No."

"You mean like, like a…sexual fantasy?" my throat emits a squeaky sound, and I'm sure my eyebrows have disappeared to somewhere around the back of my head.

"That's what I meant," she says, her eyes dropping towards her hands, which are now clasped tightly on top of the table.

"Oh good lord." the room grows hot, and my tongue feels as if it's suddenly too big for my mouth.

I try and process the information, but as I turn to speak to her, I find she's gone. I catch sight of her just as she walks out of the door, and I've only ever seen her walk away like that when she's angry or upset, or even both. Shit, what have I done?

* * *

When I gather up the courage to go looking for her, I do so without having the faintest idea of what I'm going to say to her. I also have no idea how the conversation had gone from being a game of Greg's to something that could potentially ruin the very fragile working relationship that we possess. And it is fragile, we move from day to day with no particular level of friendship in mind, neither one of us willing to call a permanent ceasefire.

I hadn't realised how vulnerable she was. It must have taken an awful lot of courage for her to own up to having had fantasies about me. It's a hell of a lot more courage than I possess, probably a lot more than I'll ever have. I couldn't even admit that I'd tried, couldn't admit why it was too painful to go through with. Not even to myself.

I check everywhere I can think of, even in places I know she never goes. Even her office is empty, and irrationally, I begin to think I'll never find her, even though I know that's impossible. I worry that she's driven off somewhere on her own, even though we're still on the clock and decide to check the parking lot, just to make sure her car is still there. In the process of checking, I end up finding the very person I'm looking for, huddled on bench in a quiet corner.

"Hey," I say gently, when I'm close enough to catch the moonlight reflected in the tracks of her tears.

"Hey," she whispers hoarsely, and wipes her tears away slowly, knowing that it's too late to conceal the fact she was crying.

"It's cold out here." I take a seat next to her on the wooden bench that thankfully, is tucked away from prying eyes.

"I hadn't noticed." she shrugs, but I can tell she's shivering.

I pull my sweatshirt off, and hand to it her. "Put this on, or you'll catch cold."

"Thanks." she slips it over her head, and wraps her arms around her middle as she snuggles into its warmth.

"Want to play a little game? It's called Have You Ever."

"Sara." the look on her face tells me she doesn't appreciate games, but I'm truly not about to play any.

"Have you ever been so scared that your heart races out of control?"

"Yes…" she pauses, as if trying to figure out where this is headed.

"Have you ever looked into someone's eyes, and know that you want to spend the rest of your life with them, but you're too scared to tell them because you're not even friends?"

She turns beautiful blue eyes on me that glint in the moonlight, as she watches me intently.

"Have you ever fallen in love with the woman you work so closely with, and longed to tuck her long blonde hair behind her ear when it keeps falling in front of her eyes? Have you ever wanted to take her in your arms, and hold her when she's tired, and frustrated, and needs a break?"

Her eyes go wide, knowing I'm talking about her. I take hold of her hand, and draw it into my lap, as I rub some warmth back into it.

I'm on a roll now, and I carry on whilst I still have the courage to say it. "Have you ever wanted to spend all night holding her in your arms? Have you ever wanted to spend every waking moment getting to know her, finding out what makes her laugh, what makes her happy, and being the one to wipe her tears away when she's sad? Have you ever wanted to spend all eternity gazing into her amazingly beautiful blue eyes that always make you feel as if they contain all the secrets of the universe?"

As if to prove my point, I reach out when a single tear courses down her cheek and gently wipe it away with the soft pad of my thumb. She closes her eyes, her long lashes clinging wetly to her cheek. Her bottom lip trembles, and I know its taking all of her self control not to become any more emotional than she already has. I smile, not because she is upset, or vulnerable in front of me, but because I never thought I would be the cause of such raw emotion in her. The fact that I am, must mean she cares, and very deeply at that, for Catherine Willows wouldn't appear vulnerable in front of anyone if she could help it.

"Do you have any idea what you're saying, Sara?" she asks, after several minutes of silence.

"I know exactly what I'm saying. The question is, now you know how I feel. What are you going to do about it?" I smile at her in the dark, lacing our fingers together.

"What do you want me to do about it?" a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

"I want you to let me take you out on dates. I want you to want me to take you to places you've never seen before. I want you to need me, to let me get close to you and Lindsey. To be a part of your family; to trust me to take care of you both. I want you to want all of that, and more."

"I sense a 'but' coming," she looks up at me, a flicker of fear behind her eyes.

"But…"I smile at her, gripping her hand to try and put her at her ease. "If all this is for you, is just a fantasy, then I'll take whatever I can get. If I'm being honest though, Catherine…I don't just want you for a night. I want you forever, if such a thing as forever exists. So the question is now, sweetheart, what do you want?"

"I know exactly what I want," she says huskily, the edges of her voice rough from crying. "I want you. I want you to want me too, all of me. And now that I know you do, you're mine."

My heart soars as I begin smiling brightly. "My fantasy."

"What was?" she looks at me, momentarily puzzled.

I bring her hand to my lips, and kiss her palm softly. "This. You, me, the moonlight. But the tears were mine, and you'd have been the one to soothe them away. It was after a difficult case, and I felt so alone. But it hurt. It hurt me to dream about you because I was sure we could never be together."

"I never made it easy for you," she admits, the pain in her eyes apparent.

I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her as she lays her head on my shoulder. She sighs softly, her face pressed into my neck as the warmth of her wards off the cold chill in the air, and I realise that I've finally found my way home.

"I didn't make it easy for you, either," I murmur, running my fingers through her baby soft blonde hair. I turn in her arms, and pull her in for a proper hug. "None of that matters now, though. All that matters is how we feel about each other. Above all else, Catherine, you have to know that no matter what goes wrong in the world, you can always be certain of the fact that I love you."

She pulls back slightly, the warmth of her hand caressing my face. "I love you too, Sara. So very much."

The truth of her words reflects in her eyes, and I've never been more certain of anything in my life than what lies ahead of us. More tears escape her eyes, as I rest our heads together and gently kiss them away, whispering sweet nothings on the night air. It's just a matter of seconds before the need to feel closer overtakes us both and I feel her warm, soft, velvety lips against my own. Softly exploring, and conveying a feeling much deeper than words could right now.

"What do we do now?" she asks softly, and sounding like she's still very much in need of reassurance, minutes later when we've pulled apart.

"We take our time, and get to know each other. We could even go out on our first date tonight, if you're free?"

"For you, baby, I'm always free. But what about right now, we're having such a slow shift," she tries to sound innocent, but a grin finds its way to her face.

"Did any of your fantasies ever include your office?" I grin wickedly at her.

"There might have been one in there including my desk. Want to see if what I fantasised about is possible?"

"I'm willing to bet it's possible, I just don't think either of us will escape from it unmarked," I reply with a dreamy expression on my face, when the thought of biting into her soft skin barely hard enough for her to feel me runs through my mind.

"Come on then, lover," she stands up, smiling beautifully as she grasps my hand tightly, and pulls me along with her. "Come and make your mark on me."

I fully intend to, just like she made her mark on me all those years ago, when I first met her.


End file.
